Angel Chronicles
by AllUNeedIsFaith
Summary: Angel's lived a long life. Inside are short stories about the people, and demons, around him throughout his life. Incl. Darla, Dru, Buffy and Spike's next
1. Chapter 1: Darla

The Angel Chronicles

Darla

Beautiful

Liam had never seen someone so beautiful. And this wasn't him trying to get into bed with her. Not that he would mind bedding her. She was truly beautiful. It baffled him exactly why she was in a place like this. He'd caught glimpses of her earlier, when he was fighting. She was smiling brightly at him, her eyes gleaming and he returned the smile through an inebriated haze.

He grabbed someone's hair and slammed their head down onto the table. Hard. He felt their nose crunch as he slammed it down and it gave way to the rest of his face. He laughed loudly and then took another swig of his beer and revelled in the bubbles of it and the foam. It dulled everything. Made everything seem less real.

Except for her beauty. If anything it made her more beautiful and more unattainable. She sat there, prim and proper so out of place yet so untouchable. As if any man who dared go within a foot of her would collapse into ash instantly.

She wore an elegant and intricate dress which indicated someone of high status. Another puzzle as to why she was eating in this Irish pub which contained low lifes and men with no future. And him. He mainly came for the drink and the fact that a fight was never far off in a place like this. He liked the fight. It cut through the inebriation so clearly. Okay, not so clearly, on more than one occasion he'd miss because he had bad judgement and would be returned with a hard hit to the head because he had a lack of reflexes. But it made him feel… Alive.

He grinned widely at the woman before taking a big swig from the tumbler and joyfully grabbed a random, already unconscious, person and punching him in the face. He laughed giddily and then burst into a bawdy Irish song at the top of his voice.

The next thing he knew the bar tender's meaty fist was coming at his face and then black…

Show Me The World

(AN: I know this isn't exactly the way that it happened but I just thought that this was so characteristic I couldn't help myself.)

Angel let the old graveyard caretaker drop to the ground and vamped out. He looked to Darla, his previous unsureness had disappeared and all that was there now was the suaveness that only Angelus possessed. He approached her with a predatory look on his face and she looked at him delightedly. He pulled her to him roughly and bent his neck to crush his lips against her own in an act of possession and they both battled for dominance, Darla finally letting the boy get his first victory.

He withdrew with a smirk clear on his 'angelic' face. A growl was at the back of his throat and he let it rip before drawing Darla near and looking deep into her eyes, searching. Then, apparently he found something because the growl disappeared and he captured her lips roughly again. Darla played along, giving him some leeway as he was new and then she would set her foot down later. As she surrendered to his rough and passionate kiss she thought. _Much, much later._

"What do you want?' Darla asked sensually, looking up into his dark, dangerous eyes and he surveyed the graveyard before him before answering. She just looked at him as though she was hanging onto his every word. Which, at this stage, she was.

"I want to lay this town to waste. I want my name on their dying lips as they attempt to reach for their crosses and bibles. I want them begging me for their lives, I want them down on their knees begging me for forgiveness, for mercy. And then I want their blood." Angel said, the hunger clear in his eyes and Darla looked up at him, completely and utterly delighted at what she'd made.

"What else?" She asked, her eyes hungry for more and he looked down at her.

"I want you to show me the world." He said and bent down to capture her lips harshly again and she reacted with her hunger matching his own. Then he pulled away, fire dancing in his eyes, "And we can destroy it together."

Like Your Mother

Everyone always said how much Connor looked like Angel. But, as he looked at his few day old son sleeping in his cot, he realised that he looked exactly like Darla. It wasn't the looks per see, just something about him. Every time that Angel looked at him he saw Darla and what she did for Connor. He would never be able to thank her for what she did and it would be something that he would wish he could do for the rest of his un-life.

Connor moved to his other side and yawned. If Cordelia had been present she would've squealed and insisted on taking pictures of Connor. But now all that was here was him and his son. He loved his son so much that sometimes he would be so paranoid that something would happen to him. He would get so worried that he would lose him.

And he would look at him and see Darla. See what she did for him. For Connor. And whenever he would move or shift in his cot or yawn he would see Darla in her last moments. And he would feel his chest constrict and tears threaten that he would never let through the barrier. And then Connor would just look at him and he would feel it all over again.

One day, one day he would let all of his barriers free and just look at his son and cry. But today wasn't that day. Maybe that day would happen, but not anytime soon. He couldn't show weakness yet. It was too soon to show weakness.

Maybe one day, when Angel had gotten rid of all of the threats like Holtz and Wolfram and Hart. But until then he couldn't let down the barriers. He love his son so much that he wished that he could get rid of all the evil in the world for him. But he knew that he couldn't do that. But he wished that he could.

Connor rubbed his nose with his pudgy fist and Angel felt his chest restrict again and he just wondered exactly how someone could look so much like his mother.


	2. Chapter 2: Drusilla

The Angel Chronicles

Drusilla

Vision Girl

Angelus looked around the town square and then his eyes found her. There was something about her that was different from all of the other, the others were all bumbling fools who were little children and didn't know anything of the ways of the world. But although she was as young as them, she seemed to have a wise quality about her. As if she knew all of the secrets of the world. As their eyes connected he saw them widen slightly and felt himself smirk when he knew that the fear in her eyes was only something he saw in victim's eyes. She knew what he was going to do.

Darla had been looking up at him adoringly and fawning over him this whole time. He played along with her, his temper down because of this new found girl. He was going to have a _lot_ of fun. He could almost picture it as he saw her gather the women around her and walk away fast.

"She knows what you're going to do." Darla said delightedly and Angel ignored her, obviously she knew. She was a seer. And his intentions came off of him like the stench of a wet dog. So her being able to know what he was intending wasn't such an accomplishment. But it did make it more fun for him. _Much more fun._

He grinned as he thought of exactly what he would do to the women that she'd escaped with so quickly. _Perhaps go back to the classics, the crucifix position with crosses in their arms and legs. Let them hang until they die so that all the blood pools. Humans love that._ He snickered to himself and ignored Darla's look at him as he pictured it. _Of course they will be completely naked and obviously 'disrespected'._

_This is going to be fun._

Puzzle

Drusilla had a black veil covering her face, in an attempt to shield her face and stop people from seeing her tear soaked face. She had taken all of the precautions when travelling to the isolated nunnery, travelling in the middle of the day with a coach rider who knew about them. The man who was evil and hurt him and his family. The one who had the nice face. But she saw past that to the blackness.

It scared her. The blackness was like a void. There was no light and there would never be. She was so scared to look into that blackness. It was so scary. That was before. Now what she saw was what he did to them. To her family. She felt more tears roll down her face and her mind get all jumbled, the way it did when she thought about those sort of things.

Her mother used to always tell her off for seeing the things that weren't really there. And now she wished she couldn't see them. Maybe then that evil man wouldn't want anything to do with her and her family. Oh, her poor sisters and her mother… _Maybe if I can get a doctor to get them out…_ The stray thought crossed her mind and then it disappeared as she felt the carriage slow and stop.

She stepped out and viewed the mountainside convent and drew a breath of the chilly air before gently wiping the tears from her eyes with a shaking hand. God would keep her safe from the devil. He would keep her safe, He had to.

Unfortunately He must've been preoccupied.

Angelus was waiting at the nunnery with a heavy brown robe covering him. He knew she'd be on this way. He saw her leaving, watching from a hotel room and listening with his vampiric hearing. He grinned as she passed him, turning after she passed him, as if she was sensing something. But all she saw was a priest's robe so she turned back around. _She is close…_ Angelus thought as he saw the wide eyed look that crazy people seemed to have. Just one more stage. One more step. And Angelus could wait.

He was built for waiting. Especially when the gift of breaking someone was at the end of a wait. He smiled wickedly and thought about what he had done so far and what he could do next. He had broken her so much and now he was going to hollow out the grieving, half crazy person and put a demon in her place. The last piece of the puzzle.

Mad

Drusilla was truly, and utterly, mad. Angelus realised this as soon as he turned her and she started to giggle about a worm dancing. And he loved it. He decided that it was all part of her charm. Without it she wouldn't be _nearly_ as interesting. And, although Darla hadn't really approve, he loved that he knew that she would be crazy for the rest of time. And the things that he did to her family had taught her his best tricks and she was really going to be a good torturer. Angelus could feel it.

Angelus had brought Drusilla back to the hotel room which Darla and he had taken from an old archduke shortly thereafter eating him. She went over to the corner and she giggled, laughing at the same time. He smirked as he looked at her and then Darla came from the other room and he shifted his gaze to her. She looked at Drusilla with a glare before looking at Angelus, sightly softening her gaze but still trying to seem mad and dangerous.

But Angelus knew that if he pushed the right buttons she would melt in his hands. He stepped towards her with the smirk on his face and with each step he saw that the hard look in her eyes was fading. He pulled her to him with a growl deep in his chest. He saw the look disappear and be replaced with a smile of her own.

"I still don't know why you did it." Darla said, tearing herself away from his face and he rolled his eyes and felt something he usually didn't. Impatience.

"Darla, I told you before. Eternal torment." He said, his eyes and voice coaxing her into letting him get his way and eventually she sighed slightly and then looked back up at him. Unsureness clear in her eyes he swooped down and took out the unsureness with a harshly passionate kiss. This did the trick and it made Darla be distracted if anything.

A whimper came from the corner and then more out of control giggling and the two vampires looked at Dru who was now drawing on the wall and slapping it with her palm.

"The wormy's dancing in circles and circles and circles and circles…" She said and started to hit the wall with the heel of her palm. This caused Darla to doubt Angelus' decision again.

"She's mad." She said, observing her with a certain air of superiority. Angelus looked at her and felt a familiar smirk come onto his lips.

"Yes, she is."


	3. Chapter 3: Buffy

The Angel Chronicles

Buffy

I See You

Angel shifted uncomfortably in the car. He kept worrying that sunlight would creep into it and that he would be, for lack of a better term, history. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, so tightly that you could tell that his knuckles were white. Even thought the rest of his skin was pretty pale to begin with. _What could possibly be worth this?_

He didn't trust the blacked out window. But maybe that was the reason that he took the car in the first place. He didn't really care if he died right here and now, burned up because there was a spot that had been missed on the side window, or because the paint layer wasn't thick enough. He could and he wouldn't be too bothered, it was just hell that wasn't to look forward to. _Then again, this is hell too._

It was just curiosity that kept him alive now. Curiosity about exactly what Whistler thought was going to change his mind about the whole living on earth as the tortured vampire with a soul. Way he saw it was that he got the bad deal, no matter what bonuses you add in or what angle you judge it from. _I guess it is better now that I don't have to eat rat's blood anymore. I've moved up a step to pig's blood._

He stopped the car at where Whistler had described him to stop it and slowly rolled down the window of the old car with the small knob that was all that remained of the winder. He peered out of the car, blinking a few times as he wasn't used to the sunlight. He hadn't been in indirect sunlight for fifty years and it was obvious. _Almost forgot how bright it was... And how hot it was._

After a few seconds he could see a pretty young blonde girl who was surrounded by a bunch of other blonde girls and talking in a sarcastic tone of voice. The other girls were obviously hanging on her every word and he was fascinated at how this beautiful girl had managed to get their attention so much. _They're like followers crowding around a god._

After mention of a guy (Tyler) that was obviously in a relationship with the girl he sunk into his seat slightly. Obviously she would be seeing a guy and going out with a guy. I mean look at her. Just _look_ at her. He quirked his head slightly as she spoke some slang but he got the gist that she was saying that that guy and her weren't going out anymore. _Hey, looking up slightly._

Then of course that disappeared when he heard that she was willing to take him back and he just sunk into his seat again and left his shoulders up so that they were somewhere near his ears. Classic defensive pose. _Things not looking so up again. But would I actually expect a girl like that to consider... Well, me. A vampire. There would be no way that we could ever... Be anything. But that doesn't stop me wanting it._

The girl marched up the stairs before sitting on the top step and taking her jacket off. Angel was kind of glad, the bright pink was really hurting his eyes. She sat there, sucking on her lollipop until an elderly, chubby man approached her. I'm using chubby in the broadest sense here. He's more... rounded out. Angel felt a pang in his stomach. _He's a watcher. He has to be. That means... The girl's a slayer. Well, Whistler didn't mention that._

_The watcher... He called her Buffy Summers. Buffy Summers. Buffy Summers. Buffy. What a strange name, strange yet... Interesting._

Angel continued to listen and grimaced when Buffy proclaimed to lack a destiny. Maybe before she didn't. But that was before and this was... well, now. _Why does she have to be the slayer? She's too young. It isn't fair. She shouldn't have to deal with the things out there, the things that haunt the night. In other words, things like me. She isn't ready yet. She'll get hurt. She'll get killed. She can't._

At the watcher's mention of the 'vampires' and Buffy's reaction Angel grimaced once again. _She isn't ready._

Then, after much persuasion, the watcher led her into the gym to talk to her and possibly show evidence (throwing knives at her head anyone?).

_She isn't ready._ Angel thought and then wound up the window and drove away with that thought always in his mind.

Initial Meetings

Angel saw Buffy walking, alone and he knew that this was the moment. This was the moment when he would meet her for the first time. Or, she would meet him the first time. Finally he wouldn't have to stalk her through the shadows, he could just confront her and talk. Face to face. _Or not_, he thought as he turned into a dead end alleyway, having lost her.

He stepped into the blue light and looked around. _Maybe she doubled back without my knowing it_… He thought as he walked into the alleyway. Then he heard a whoosh and his only thought before tumbling forward into a roll was, _What the-?_

He got up and turned to see the Slayer standing there and felt his lips pull back into a smirk. He couldn't help it, it was an automatic thing now. He could probably blame Whistler for that. But he wasn't around to blame was he. His mind was wandering while banter was coming from his mouth. Was it banter or flirting? He had no idea, it had been a while and his old version of flirting wasn't so up to date he realised.

"To kill them. To kill them all." He said, his eyebrows going up and the smirk planted firmly on his face. To that Buffy didn't react exactly the way he'd expected. But he hid his surprise and reasoned that with her getting expelled and having to move and probably blaming her parent's divorce on her slaying she wanted to get as far away from it as possible. He didn't blame her. But she couldn't change what she was as much as he couldn't change what _he_ was.

He reached into his jacket for the velvet box that Whistler had given him to give Buffy. He threw it at her and she caught it and opened it. He saw her get the look that she always got when Tyler gave her a piece of jewellery. She'd get the look shortly before throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him but that obviously didn't happen. He swallowed down the swell of feelings and left quickly. He didn't need this. But he couldn't stop one thought creeping out.

_She isn't ready._

Pangs

Angel looked up at Buffy's dorm window and felt a wave of unbridled emotion wash over him. He couldn't help it. He remembered all the previous times it had been like this, him watching her without her knowledge, like it was yesterday.

Something else that he could remember like it was yesterday was back when he didn't have a soul and he used to murder and maim with Darla, Spike and Dru. Back then love didn't mean anything. Love was something that was useful to him, it made him job of torturing men easily. It always seemed to tear their hearts out if they watched their loved ones die, screaming in front of them and it intrigued Angel. He never used to get why people would want to fall in love. It always seemed so painful. But when he first saw Buffy it occurred to him why.

It was something you couldn't control. Trying to control it was impossible. And also something that he thought when he had a lack of soul was true. Love was hurt, and pain, and everything else. Being so worried that the one person you loved, and knew you would love for the rest of your life would be gone. He loved Buffy so much that his cold heart ached with it and he would lie in bed in LA with his body wracked with pain.

When Doyle found that picture of her Angel felt something he hadn't for a long time. Blood lust. Wanting to lose himself in a kill. To forget about everything except the feeling of someone's life seeping away in your hands. To feel like a god, like he'd told Faith. Seeing Buffy brought everything back. He felt the pain explode in him and his thoughts meshed into one horrible mass.

Then when Doyle had a vision the better part of love came through. The feeling of having someone that held your life in their hands. Having your body, mind and soul soar every time that you saw the person. Knowing that there was one single person who could make all of the pain go away with one single touch. When Buffy kissed him he felt like his heart could start beating again. He could stay with Buffy forever, he knew this and he had a feeling that Buffy knew this too.

Sometimes when he would see her he'd feel like he was alive again. As if he was a small boy of only ten mucking around with the others in the mud until some beauty came by who would have the eyes of all boys present until she would disappear and they'd go back to playing around.

And here he was trying to protect her from some danger that would kill her. Some things would never change. And the thought that he had before disappearing into the bushes didn't change either.

_She isn't ready._


End file.
